


A Charmed Life (Snowbaz)

by Restrictedsection



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Watford (Simon Snow), American Mage, American Simon Snow, Lucy is alive, M/M, Mitali and lucy are best friends, Mutual Pining, Mystery, No Angst, Pining Simon Snow, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, SnowBaz, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Agatha Wellbelove Friendship, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Watford is a high school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restrictedsection/pseuds/Restrictedsection
Summary: What if Baz wasn't a vampire and Simon wasn't the Chosen one?What if magic didn't exist and no one got emotionally scarred?What if Simon and Baz were just two ordinary boys living at the top of a tower?---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------“Hey mate, I’m Simon, your new roomie. I missed you this morning, I was in a bit of a rush,” Simon told Baz their first night in the tower.He was in his old trackie pants, wearing his sweatshirt around his neck like a scarf. Walking over to Baz’s side of the room, Simon held his hand out to him and smiled good-naturedly.Baz stared at the shirtless boy in his personal space and wondered what he had done in his past life to anger the gods this much.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a non-magic AU in which no one gets emotionally scarred and they live happily ever after. Lucy is alive and she raises Simon. Simon isn't the chosen one so the biggest responsibility he has is taking his washing to the cleaners on time. Baz isn't a vampire but is still angsty. He's best friends with Agatha. I hope you enjoy!

Simon snow stands in the middle of the football pitch an hour after dinner. 

His coat feels itchy, but he doesn’t remove it because of the cold.

He breathes warm air out into his hands and rubs them together, hoping to garner enough heat to encourage his fingers not to freeze off.

“Stupid winter and it's stupid snow and it's stupid-“

His angry mumbling is cut off by the loud bustling of the football team leaving the locker-rooms. They stare at him as they pass, a few of the boys waving politely.

One of the boys leaving the locker-room points at him and nudges the tall boy jogging beside him. 

Cold grey eyes land on Simon and narrow slightly. 

“Go on ahead, I’ll catch up!” Baz yells at the group of boys slowing down to wait for him. 

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch walked on the earth like he was doing it a favour by crushing it beneath his foot. 

Baz jogs towards Simon, causing Simon to tense up immediately. Baz’s purposeful strides have a way of making one feel like they were being chased by a predator.

Simon notices Baz’s wet hair, styled messily by the post-practice shower, and wonders to himself why he would put so much time and effort into styling it every morning. It looked good whether or not he wasted an entire morning on it.

He had his sports bag bouncing off his shoulder and he carried his cleats on the other hand.

“What do you want, Snow?” Baz asks, stopping in front of Simon and sneering down at him.

Simon is too tired for Baz’s attitude problem. He just had a row with Penny and all he wanted was to curl up in the shower and let the hot water melt the ice he was sure was slowly encasing him at the moment. 

“Penny has my key and we’re not talking right now so I can’t ask for it back. Can I use yours? I need to get back to the room,” Simon tells Baz. 

He tries to be nonchalant about it, but his voice betrays him.

“Were you crying?” Baz asks disbelievingly.

Simon Snow is sunshine personified, so seeing him there with a red face and runny nose was a shock to Baz. Simon suddenly looks angry and Baz realises his mistake.

“No, I was not. I’m probably catching a cold because you meat-head jocks decided it would be a better idea to go to the gym instead of having dinner,” Simon says harshly.

He meant it as an insult, but it ended up coming out more needy than insulting because of the silent ‘without telling me’.

“Are you really?” Baz asks him after a short silence. 

“Am I really what?” Simon asks him harshly.

“Are you catching a cold?” Baz asks him softly.

Simon is confused. 

Baz had taken a step closer to him and was now peering down at his face concernedly. He suddenly feels guilty for making Simon wait, despite having had no idea he was waiting.

“Y-yeah, I think I am,” Simon stammers out.

“You also seem to be running up a fever, your face is quite red,” Baz says, taking another step closer.

Simon stumbles back in a slight panic and places his hands on Baz’s chest to stop him from coming in any closer.

“I just need the key, then I’ll finally be out of your hair,” Simon tells him, still not letting his arms drop.

“Your hands are also really cold,” Baz says, taking one of Simon’s hands off his chest to wrap it into his unnaturally warm large hand.

He stares down at it and squeezes it trying to see if he can transfer some of his warmth to Simon.

Simon stares at his hand in Baz’s disbelievingly. 

“Just hand me the key and stop messing with me,” Simon tells Baz, pulling his hand away from Baz’s surprisingly gentle touch.

Baz stares at Simon blankly. Simon hates when he does that; he can never really tell what Baz is thinking.

Considering that is his constant facial expression, Simon can’t say he’s liked Baz all that much in their three short years of rooming together. 

When Simon transferred to Watford Academy for his first year of secondary school, he was sad to find a tight-knit group of private school gits who came from the same primary schools and social circles for classmates.

The only luck he had was the fact that he still had Penny there.

He didn’t make many friends, but everybody liked him. It was hard to form real bonds with people who had been friends forever. Penny had it even worse, so Simon never complained. 

Until he met Baz. 

Simon was a late transfer so all the dorms were full, which is why he had to share Baz’s ridiculously large single room.

It confused Simon as to why Baz would have his own room while everyone else roomed with three other people. 

That was until his first day. 

Baz was treated like a king. In the week Simon had missed, a social hierarchy had already been created and Baz and Agatha were at the top, while Penny was at the bottom.

Baz was already on the school football team, despite only being a first-year and he was also already top of their class, despite it only being their first week. At fifteen, he walked with self-assurance most adults lacked and didn’t shy away from the attention his peers paid him. 

He pretended not to notice when teachers were overly kind to him but didn’t turn down any of their favours. Simon found it disgusting that Baz used the fact that his father was a large shareholder in the school to get what he wanted, but he wasn’t there to make enemies.

It turned out Baz was.

“Hey mate, I’m Simon, your new roomie. I missed you this morning, I was in a bit of a rush,” Simon told Baz their first night in the tower. 

He was in his old trackie pants, wearing his sweatshirt around his neck like a scarf. Walking over to Baz’s side of the room, Simon held his hand out to him and smiled good-naturedly. 

Baz stared at the shirtless boy in his personal space and wondered what he had done in his past life to anger the gods this much.

Baz thought Simon was the sun. His shiny blonde curls lay messily on the top of his head, just begging to have fingers run through them. He had faint freckles splotched all over his face, and moles lining their way down his neck. The freckles splayed all over his chest and travelled downwards as if daring whoever saw them wonder just how far they went.   
All these thoughts walked through Baz’s mind painfully slow as his eyes followed Simon’s freckles south.

“Mate? Are you alright?” Simon asked him, waving his hand in front of Baz’s face. 

Baz snapped out of the trance he was in and met Simon’s gaze. Simon was smiling at him with an amused look on his face. 

“Stop,” Baz said, swatting Simon’s hand away from his face. 

“I’m fine, mate, and I would appreciate it if you’d get out of my personal space,” Baz said, sneering at Simon. 

He eyed Simon’s pants in disgust and sat back down at his desk, ignoring the blonde’s outstretched hand. 

“So... Tyrannus, right? That’s what it said on the roster anyway,” Simon said awkwardly while pulling his shirt on properly, a feat that Baz found almost impossible to ignore. 

Taking the opportunity to glance at Simon, Baz said, “A bit of a mouthful, isn’t it? I go by my middle name, Basilton, although my friends call me Baz.”

“Alright then, Baz,” Simon said, falling onto his bed ungracefully. 

Baz scoffed. 

“I said my friends, or are you too thick to understand what that means?” He told Simon.

That encounter, and many other similar ones that followed, were the reason Simon found it hard to believe that Baz was genuinely concerned for him. 

“Come on,” Baz growls out at Simon. 

He grabs Simon’s forearm and drags him towards the direction of the main building. Simon can barely keep up, so he tells himself the reason has everything to do with Baz’s unnaturally long legs and nothing to do with the fact that he’s on the football team and thus objectively more physically fit than him. 

Even with an almost-head-cold, Simon refuses to admit Baz is better than him at something. 

“Where are you taking me?” Simon asks Baz breathlessly when they pass the main entrance and head towards the back entrance (which is definitely out of bounds for students).

“The infirmary, of course,” Baz says, glancing back at Simon to give him an incredulous look. 

Moments like these make Simon remember just how similar Baz and Penny are. Both of them have the annoying habit of assuming everyone thinks the same way they do and that if they don’t, they are well below the cut-off point of average intelligence. 

Then the door clicks and opens. Baz smiles triumphantly and grabs Simon’s hand, pulling him into the building.

“What the- How did you get the door open?” Simon asks Baz in awe. 

“Magic, of course,” Baz retorts with a smug smile.

Simon scoffs and shoves Baz who’s stifling a laugh. 

As they walk down the dark deserted halls, Simon hears the soft clinking of metal to his right and rolls his eyes. Of course, Baz has a key to the main building.

Suddenly, they hear humming and the rustling of papers coming from around the corner down the hall. 

“Night janitor,” they say simultaneously. 

“Down there,” Simon whisper shouts, tugging at Baz’s jersey and pointing at the nook under the stairs. 

“There’s nothing down there, we’ll be seen. I should just go up there and talk to whoever it is, maybe they’ll let us go without- “Baz starts but is interrupted abruptly.

“Maybe they’ll let you get off scot-free, but they most definitely won’t let me. I’m already on my second warning Basilton,” Simon grinds out. 

Simon pulls Baz towards the staircase, and to Baz’s surprise, there’s a door there.

Simon tugs and pulls at it desperately, until it gives in and swings open. Getting into the dark space, he looks up at Baz who’s looking into the small space dubiously. 

Baz has always been sceptical of small, dark spaces. The dark had always felt too oppressive and the lack of space suffocating; the thought of being in that space made him feel sick.

“I prefer my chances with the janitor,” he says.

Just as he is turning ning to look for the approaching footsteps, he feels a hand grab his. 

Simon is crouched down at the closet’s entrance, looking up pleadingly at Baz. 

“Baz, please. If I’m found here alone, it’ll be worse than if I’m found here with you, and being found here at all will cost me a lot more than you know. Plus, you owe me. The only reason I’m in this mess is because of you,” Simon tells him, holding his hand tighter. 

Baz stares at their entwined fingers.

The footsteps get louder. 

“Baz, come on, it’ll barely be more than thirty seconds, just until they’re out of earshot,” Simon whispers frantically, “it’s an old art supply closet, okay? Penny and I camp out here sometimes. There’s a lamp and everything, seriously, just get in.” 

Simon loses balance on his crouch and falls, banging loudly into the closet door.

“HEY! Are there still kids in the building? COME OUT HERE AT ONCE OR I’LL CALL THE TEACHER ON DUTY, YOU MAGGOTS,” a gruff voice yells.

Simon stares wide-eyed at Baz and does something he didn’t expect to be doing that night.


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz are stuck in a closet together. Coincidence? I think not.

He reaches up and grabs both of Baz’s forearms, pulling him down to the ground. Pushing him into the closet, he covers the startled boy’s mouth, muffling his yell of protest, and shuts the door softly behind them. 

Baz lands on something surprisingly soft in the pitch-black closet. Simon lands right on top of Baz and squeezes his eyes shut, holding his breath. 

Baz’s heartbeat is quickening beneath him by the second. Simon figures he’s finally gotten the sense to be as scared as he is. 

The yelling continues, but the thundering footsteps pass the closet door.

The two boys remain completely still, neither of them breathing. 

Baz shifts slightly beneath Simon and Simon realises the janitor is probably long gone. He begins to move from his position on top of Baz when a strong hand grips his hip tightly. 

“Wait, he could come back around to check again when he realises there’s nobody up there,” Baz whispers huskily into Simon’s ear. 

A shiver runs down Simon’s spine. He blames it on his cold.

Simon lays his head tentatively back onto Baz’s chest. Baz is still scared. 

Baz stares into the darkness and realises it isn’t as claustrophobia-inducing as he thought it would be.

“I can turn on the lamp to the dimmest setting, if you think we’ll be here for a while,” Simon speaks up after five minutes of tense silence. 

He wants to ask if Baz can let him go, but that would mean acknowledging the position they were in.

“Sure,” Baz whispers into the darkness after a beat. 

Releasing his grip from Simon hip (more reluctantly than he would have liked), he began to sit up slowly. 

Simon shuffles off of Baz and sits against the opposite wall, as far from Baz as he can be when they’re in a space so compact their legs are permanently entangled. 

He blames Baz’s unnaturally long legs. 

At this point, Simon is sure more than half his problems that week have been caused by Baz’s unnaturally long legs, in one way or another.

Except for his argument with Penny.

“Simon, the lamp,” Baz whispers. 

Ever since they entered the building, everything Baz has done has been softer.

Simon grunts and shuffles until he lets out a triumphant ‘Aha!’ and a soft golden glow bathes the room. 

“Wow...” Baz breathes out reverently as he looks around at the room.

The room has the same layout as every other broom closet in the school, but instead of detergent bottles lining the shelves, its books. Hardcover novels, different coloured mason jars with random things inside and fairy lights line the shelves. The floor has almost disappeared under the cover of throw pillows, duvets and blankets. 

The only reason Baz can tell it used to be an art supply closet is because of the paintbrushes and canvases arranged neatly in the corner and the paint splotches all over the walls. He’s sure Simon took advantage of that because one of the splotches looks suspiciously like his favourite football team’s mascot. 

“Looks just like a dragon, doesn’t it?” Simon asks Baz once he catches his eyes lingering on the red blob, “Penny says it looks more like a numpty with horns, though.”

“What did happen between you and Penny? You mentioned you’re having a row at the moment,” Baz asks Simon politely. 

He gets comfortable on the floral duvet and resists the urge to cover his and Simon’s legs with the black blanket bundled near their feet.

“Uhm... Nothing you’d want to hear about, I’m sure,” Simon says blushing.

“Trust me, Simon, once you’ve been through Agatha’s ranting, there’s nothing you can’t get through. Do you know that she quizzes you in between to make sure you’re keeping up?” Baz says with a laugh. 

When Baz complains about Agatha, it feels like he misses her because of the fond look he always gets on his face.

“Seriously Baz, it’s nothing you’d like to hear about. So, how did you get the keys to the main building?”

Simon was changing the subject. Baz didn’t mind as long as Simon still wanted to talk to him.

“I asked for them,” Baz says completely serious.

Simon stares at him, trying to figure out if he’s joking or not. 

He realises Baz is joking when he bursts out laughing.

“Dear Lord! Snow, you should’ve seen the look on your face,” Baz says, still laughing. 

“How am I supposed to recognise when you’re joking or not when everybody at school practically worships you?” Simon says, slightly embarrassed. 

Baz sobers up immediately and gives Simon a weird look.

“Just because some people admire me, doesn’t mean I can go around breaking every single school rule I want,” Baz says slowly.

Simon scoffs and asks, “Then where did you get the keys?”

“I nicked them off Coach Harrow,” Baz says with a wicked grin.

Simon dissolves into a fit of laughter, until Baz shushes him, reminding him of the situation they were in. 

“But how?”

“He sent me to lock up the locker rooms and gym one time too many so I just decided to keep them for myself.”

“That’s hardly stealing, Basilton.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why that’s the story I’m going to tell Professor Bunce if I’m ever caught. In all honesty, I borrowed them from the history teacher that was fired last semester and promised him to drop them off at the reception when he was leaving.”

Simon falls over laughing this time.

“How would your loyal subjects react to finding out that their king is a petty thief in his free time?” Simon asks him mockingly. 

“They all quite enjoyed it, especially when I opened the pool for last year’s end of year party,” Baz says smugly. 

“Oh my God, that was you?” Simon asks him, vaguely impressed. 

“Of course it was. I use my powers for good, sometimes, I’ll have you know.” 

“So you admit it. You’re a vampire that has had the entire school under your spell the whole time?” Simon asks him jokingly. 

Baz can sense an edge to Simon’s question.

“I don’t think vampires have the facilities to do that, Snow,” Baz tells him, and then adds softly, “And anyway, I wouldn’t need to, even if I had the powers to do so. They’d still give me pity favours whether or not I was a vampire.”

Simon is confused, but he remains silent. Baz’s vulnerability is as fragile as it is elusive. 

“Wait, Bunce has told you about my mother?” Baz asks Simon when he noticed his visible confusion. 

“No. She refuses to tell me anything about you that I don’t already know because she thinks that since we’re roommates if you wanted me to know something, you would tell me. I tried to explain that we weren’t that kind of roommates but she insists that since you’re not as bad as Trixie, a conversation is still possible,” Simon rambles. 

Baz winces and refuses to look Simon in the eye. The reason they aren’t ‘that kind of roommates’ is that he burned all those bridges. 

That statement hangs in the air for a moment.

“My mother taught here. Lived here,” Baz says, still not meeting Simon’s eyes, “and died here.”

Simon is stunned. 

“I was practically raised here, in my early years. Back when the school still had a nursery. Everyone adored her, respected her and looked up to her, especially the teachers. She was devoted to the school, mind, body and soul. This was going to be her legacy. That was until she developed health complications because of overwork and finally died here when she was supposed to be on bed rest at home. I was there, even at the end. I thought it was one of her fainting spells at first. I realised it was worse than that when people couldn’t stop screaming after she was found. My aunt Fiona still thinks there was foul play involved.”

Baz tells the story as if it had been thrashing under his skin, threatening to drown him if he didn’t let it out. Simon could tell by the way he spoke that he was offering him a piece of his very soul. 

Simon couldn’t tell if it was an olive branch or his version of asking for something he couldn’t bear to say out loud.

They sat in silence letting the words hang over them.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry for your loss,” Simon whispers. 

Simon feels his throat close up. He can’t imagine life without his mum, let alone going through what Baz had. 

Lucy Salisbury has always been a beautiful woman. That didn’t change when she got older and her cheeks got a little less rosy and wrinkled lined her eyes. Her bright blue eyes always shined as if she knew something you didn’t (in Simon’s experience, it was because she did). Her broad shoulders and thick curly hair alluded to a ‘country girl charm’ that was always at odds with her perfect etiquette and elegant gait. 

She’s clumsy with her affection and has no problem showering those she loves with hugs and kisses. Because of this, Simon is experienced in the art of getting lipstick stains off his skin.

The thought of losing her in the way Baz lost his mother is impossible to fathom to him. He doesn’t think he’d have the strength to carry on afterwards. Not only because he’d have to live with his villain of a father if she passed, but also because he doesn’t think there’s anything he loves in this world quite as much as he loves her. 

“My mother always says that the cosmos can never give you anything you can’t handle. She usually means it in regards to house chores, but I think the larger meaning suffices,” Simon tells Baz, keeping steady eye contact, “That’s how I know that you’re stronger than you know. Or stronger than me at least.”

“You speak as if we’ve endured all we have to endure in this life already. Also, I haven’t walked in your shoes, so how would I know if I could have endured yours?” Baz asks him bluntly. 

Simon rolls his eyes. 

“I know we’re being all serious and contemplative, but can you just take a compliment? You must know how hard it is for me to admit you could be better than me at something,” He says, lightening the mood. 

Baz laughs. Simon thinks that’s the first time he’s ever seen Baz laugh in his presence and it’s not at his expense. His stomach does little flips. He blames it on his cold. 

“So how about you? Where did you spend most of your early years?” Baz asks, shifting in the mess of blankets, “I’ve told you I spent mine here, at Watford. I can’t imagine you’d like to hear about that considering we’ve been living here for the past three years.”

“Oh. I was born in America. My parents met here, at Watford and eventually moved to the states for my father. He started his career there like he always wanted, but things... didn’t work out with him and my mum. My mum and I moved back when I was about six years old,” Simon says as evenly as he can. 

“So that’s where you got the obscene notion in your head that colour is spelt without the ‘u’. You’d get a lot more marks in compositions if you just aligned yourself with the correct spelling, like most of the world.”

Simon tips his head back to laugh and keeps it there, staring at the ceiling even after his laughter dies down. He noticed Baz’s change of topic and was grateful. 

Baz stared at Simon’s neck and couldn’t help but think that everything about this boy is dramatic. He watches as Simon’s Adam’s apple bobs and focuses on a mole near his jaw.

Baz swallows and covers his lap with the nearest blanket. His mind wanders and the room suddenly starts feeling warmer as blood starts rushing to his cheeks and more sensitive areas. 

“If I’m honest, I prefer England over the States. Mum tells me it’s alright to miss it because life there was easier, but I can’t. I just don’t miss it. I don’t think I ever will. We don’t live too close to the city so the sky is always clear and at night you can always see the stars. In the states, I never could. The farmer’s market is open nearly every day because almost everyone around us farms something. On weekends mum and I used to play rugby with the neighbourhood boys, but she’s busier now so she stopped, and on Sundays Penny’s mum always has us over for dinner. We’re happier here and a lot freer. I wouldn’t change a thing about it,” Simon says with a faraway look in his eye. 

Smiling softly he looks back down at Baz. 

They sit quietly, staring at each other. The energy in the room had shifted. Simon feels like he’s waiting for something but he doesn’t know what. 

Finally, Baz clears his throat and waves his hand around the room, “How did you find this place, and get the time to do all this?”

“Oh, this. Back home, Penny and I use the attic at my house as our ‘hideaway’ and when we got to Watford, she thought it would be appropriate to create our own here. I didn’t think it made much sense until I noticed just how horrible people can be here. She needed a place where none of that mattered and I was happy to do the best I could to help her,” Simon answers. 

Baz stiffens. He knows he’s partially at fault for making Penny a target at Watford but doesn’t know where to start if he wanted to fix it. He doesn’t think it’s fixable anyway. But mostly, he doesn't think it would be worth helping because he’s pretty sure Penny hates him. 

Simon doesn’t though. At least not completely. Because of that, Baz thinks Penny must not have told him what happened before he joined Watford. She must not have told him that Baz is the reason all the bullying started. He thinks she probably didn’t want Baz making a target out of Simon in his first week too. 

“Hey, maybe you could use some of your vampire magic to get Dev and the rest of the twats who torment her to back down. I’ve tried before but as you’ve heard, I’m already on my second warning. Or you could talk to the teachers or something?” Simon asks, anticipation seeping into his voice. 

Baz feels even guiltier. Looking down, he purses his lips trying to figure out how to answer Simon. 

“I don’t think I can. I feel guilty taking teacher’s pity favours, and I'm not sure about Dev,” Baz answers.

“So you’re okay with using pity favours to skip study hall and get on the football team, but not to help people besides yourself?” Simon demands.

Baz feels his anger bristling beneath his skin. 

“I got on the football team by my merit, Snow,” he spits out.

“Sure, just like how you got a room to yourself in the tower, before I showed up, on your merit. I know that when the Pitch Christmas Card is sent out, or whatever it is you posh families do, every single teacher in this school gets one. They can’t stop making googly eyes at you, it’s always ‘oh Basilton this’ and ‘oh Basilton that’. Even with the students! If you told Dev right now to streak through the football pitch, he probably would. And he’d take Niall and the rest of the football team with him because they all have boners for- sorry, I mean, ‘admire’ you so much. Principal Bunce would probably join them because your father is a shareholder and they can’t risk losing Prince Pitch the exalted’s ever-elusive favour,” Simon snaps. 

“My father isn’t even a shareholder, Snow,” Baz says, punctuating his sentence with Simon’s last name. 

“He donates the usual amount any alumnus does, like most of the other parents. The shareholder fib is just something people made up to try to explain why the teachers favour me,” Baz adds.

“Out of everything I’ve said, that’s the one thing you decided to pick out?” Simon hisses.

“What am I supposed to say, Snow? Huh? What you said is mostly true! But I don’t think that makes it my fault. Most of the long-serving teachers get the family Christmas card annually and even get invited to the Easter Luncheon if we have enough tables. Dev would die for me if I asked because he has about the originality of a pigeon and decided that I’m fit enough to make his decisions for him, and the football team would collapse if they didn’t operate using a hive mind. But that doesn’t make any of that my fault, ” Baz rants.

“That doesn't explain why you won’t help Penny,” Simon snarls our, glaring venomously at Baz, “Even if it isn’t your fault, it doesn’t take away from the very obvious power you have. It just means you’re too pitiful to take responsibility for it.”

This is the first argument Simon has ever won against Baz. The sinking feeling in his chest makes him question if winning was worth it. A small part of him hoped Baz would prove him wrong and surprise him. He doesn’t understand why he feels as disappointed as he does. It’s not like he didn’t already know that Baz was a rich selfish pompous prick. 

Simon starts getting up and crawls over Baz’s legs to get to the door. He bangs noisily against the walls and into shelves, causing Baz to grasp his forearm roughly. 

“Hey! Could you be any louder? I don’t think the gateman heard you. Didn’t you say you’re on your second warning? One more warning and you lose your scholarship, is that what you -“

“I’m not here on scholarship,” Simon says sharply, ripping his hand out of Baz’s grip. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to assume, I just thought that-“

“I know. It’s obvious I’m not as privileged as everyone in this school. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, my mum does the best she can,” Simon says forcefully, urgently even. 

Baz is embarrassed, but he nods vigorously, affirming that he understands how important it is that he knows this. 

“You very well know that Watford doesn’t offer scholarships. Or you should. I’m here on account of an anonymous and generous sponsor,” Simon says. 

His face hovers over Baz’s as he stares intensely at him. He meant it as the end of the conversation but Baz looks thoughtful. He remains quiet but Simon knows Baz well enough to know he’s about to ask a question. He doesn’t plan on staying to hear it. 

Opening the door, Simon gets out of the room and rushes up the stairs towards the infirmary. 

“Don’t you find that strange, Snow? That an anonymous well-wisher would just decide to pay all your tuition for you?” Baz asks from behind him, catching up effortlessly. 

Simon hates how often he and Baz argue. It’s such a normal occurrence that even after having a go at each other the way they just did, they always pretend that nothing happened.

“How do you know they won’t ask anything of you later on? Unless you know them that is,” Baz adds.

“Haven’t you ever heard of the gift horse’s mouth, Baz?” Simon asks him and starts skipping steps, trying to lose him.

Baz scoffs. 

“I know people like these Simon. They wouldn’t do a good deed without either broadcasting it, or having an ulterior motive,” Baz says. 

“Maybe everyone isn’t as simple as you think,” Simon says blankly, “and anyways, Penny and I went over who all the possible donors could be, but we came up empty. Even Professor Bunce was tight-lipped about the whole ordeal. It seemed serious, so we left it alone.”

Baz’s eyebrows shoot up. A mystery Penny has given up on is practically unheard of. Especially when it’s so close to home. 

“In our first year, an anonymous donor gave the school an unbelievably large sum of money and has been continuing to do so since then. That’s initially what sparked the assumption that it was my father. Do you think that the donor could also be the person who’s been sponsoring you?” Baz asks Simon curiously. 

“I hardly think so. I got late admission because I hadn’t even applied in the first place, so I doubt the donor knew anything about me,” Simon says nonchalantly. 

“Wait, you never applied?” Baz asks incredulously, pausing on the steps, “how did you even get an interview if you didn’t even apply?”

“I never did an interview,” Simon says, stopping at the top of the stairs. 

“But that’s impossible. No student in all of Watford history has ever been admitted outside of the proper protocol. I always assumed I didn’t see you at the written exam because scholarship students would get in based on other criteria, but you mean to tell me you didn’t even do the private oral interview? Did your mum at least get interviewed?” Baz asks Simon. 

“Not that I know of. My mum works two jobs, I would have noticed if she took the day off to come all the way here,” Simon replies after a beat.

“Your father?” Baz asks tentatively. 

“I haven’t seen since we left America twelve years ago,” Simon whispers.

“You’re certain it could not have been a family relation of any sort?” Baz asks Simon cautiously. 

“Yes Baz, I’m sure the man that abandoned my mother and me in a foreign country is not paying my tuition,” Simon replies. 

“Oh,” Baz says quietly. 

Simon turns around and walks to the infirmary. 

Baz knows Simon wants this to be the end of the conversation, but he can’t seem to let it go. Someone very powerful must have pulled serious strings to get Simon into Watford and they’re donating a big deal of money to keep their identity a secret. 

Baz can’t tell if Simon really hasn’t realised it or if he honestly just doesn’t want to know.


	3. CHAPTER 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is out sick while Baz and Penny have a new beginning.

When Baz woke up the next morning, he wasn’t surprised to find Simon still dead asleep. 

The night before they got some cold medicine for Simon and it knocked him out the moment they stepped into their room. 

Baz stares at Simon’s bed for a moment, then gets up and begins preparing for the day. 

After his usual forty-five minutes of grooming, Simon is still asleep. Baz shifts from foot to foot, staring at the Simon-shaped lump of blankets.

Deciding that staring at Simon wouldn’t make him get up on his own, Baz crosses the room and pokes the lump tentatively. 

“Simon?” Baz asks softly. 

“Are you awake? We have class in thirty minutes,” Baz says louder this time. 

“You’re going to miss breakfast, Simon,” Baz growls out, giving Simon a shove. 

A muffled groan is heard coming from beneath the blankets.

“Leave me alone,” Simon drawls out from beneath the blankets. 

The cold had finally caught up to him, so it sounds more like ‘leab be alobe’. Baz hates that he finds it endearing. Simon could kill a dragon and he’d still find it endearing. 

“Oh, so you’re awake,” Baz says. 

He walks back over to his side of the room and starts tying his tie in the mirror on his closet door. 

“Was I supposed to sleep through- Ah ah AACHOO!” Simon starts but is cut off by a harsh sneeze. 

Baz looks over at him and is shocked by the sight. 

Simon is sitting at the edge of his bed, wrapped in a black blanket. His nose is red and he keeps sniffling. He’s deathly pale and his hair is a mess, that is, more of a mess than usual. 

It strikes Baz that this is the first time he’s ever seen Simon sick. 

“Snow, I think you should just go back to bed,” Baz says, his voice a bit too soft to pass for a concerned roommate.

Turning back to the mirror, he stares at Simon in the refection. 

“I’m fine,” Simon says. 

Getting up, Simon sways uneasily on his feet then takes a long stride forward only to land in a pitiful pile on the floor.

He groans and sits up slowly. 

“Okay, that’s enough for today,” Baz says. 

He walks over to Simon and helps him up. Simon tries to resist but Baz doesn’t let him. Simon lays back down onto the bed, still holding onto Baz’s forearm. Baz leans in and places the back of his hand on Simon’s forehead, just like he did the night before. Simon stiffens up and leans away. 

“I’ll call the nurse and have her check on you. Should I bring you some sour cherry scones after breakfast?” Baz asks Simon. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Simon mumbles, wrapping himself in his blankets. 

“Because you’d do the same for me. You’ve already done the same for me,” Baz replies. 

Simon scoffs and retorts, “Your mum did all the work, all I did was deliver a few soup bowls from Cook Pritchard and soak some towels.”

Baz laughs at the memory of a younger, lankier Simon Snow awkwardly folding warm towels to the sound of Daphne’s strict instructions on speaker-phone. (Simon insisted that Baz didn’t need an in-house nurse or a trip to the hospital because he couldn’t imagine sharing a toom with a medical professional and a sniffling Baz, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he couldn’t imagine staying in their room without him.)

“It meant a lot. Daphne still asks about you; says you ought to be a doctor considering how quickly I recovered while in your care,” Baz says getting up from Simon’s bedside. 

He doesn’t add that Daphne keeps badgering him to invite Simon over for Christmas, Easter or any other holiday that involves obscene amounts of food and house guests. He doesn't know if he’s more afraid of Simon turning him down or taking him up on his offer. 

Simon laughs but it quickly turns into a cough. Picking up his bag, he slinks out of the room after wishing Simon a quick recovery. 

Baz is walking across the great lawn, discussing with Daphne the technicalities of getting Simon chicken soup without having to skip lessons to do it when golden blur rams into him, “Ow! What the hell Aggy?” Baz says, steadying the girl in his arms. 

“You missed the council meeting this morning,” she growls out, poking Baz in the chest with every word. 

“That was today? Must have slipped my mind,” Baz says off-handedly and adds, “How would you even know that, you’re not even on the Student Council.”

“I was going to give my petition today, about the girls’ Lacrosse team needing more field time because we have championships coming sooner than the boys’ team. I was just hoping that my very best friend of all time would be there to back up my petition,” Agatha retorts, glaring at Baz. 

“Sorry, something came up. But is that really necessary, they get at most ten minutes more than you guys. I doubt it makes the difference. Also, considering that you take every opportunity you can get to terrorize the boys, don’t you think they’ll have a good foundation to reject your petition?” Baz asks and pulls Agatha closer to his side when a group of freshmen rush past them chasing after a football. 

“Baz, I keep telling you, it’s about justice!” Agatha yells. 

“This isn’t just about a measly 10 minutes. They get thirty minutes more than us and all the extra morning slots. I’m fighting not only for my team, but every other girls’ team that’s been discriminated against in Watford’s past, present and future!

Did you know that besides football, all the other male sports teams in this school get more practice time in the field than the girls’ teams? I keep asking the coaches but they insist that it’s because the men’s championships are more competitive. I think that’s bull. It’s because they don’t take us seriously as athletes,” Agatha rants. 

“But how does stealing the boys’ lacrosse sticks during their break or flooding their locker room help your team?” Baz asks Agatha. 

“Seriously Baz, it’s like you’re not even paying attention. When the boys are distracted and trying to fix my mess or get revenge, my team has the field to practice,” Agatha says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“But you do know the reason the girls’ football team is treated the same as us is because they’re crushing the competition. If I’m being honest with myself, I’d say they’re doing better than us,” Baz says, mumbling the last part of his sentence. 

Agatha laughs and grabs Baz’s arm leaning against him to push him in the direction of the dining hall. 

“Baby, I hope you don’t think that it’s a secret that the girls’ team could crush you on any occasion?” Agatha asks him in a honeyed voice. 

“Sod off, low budget Barbie,” Baz says, shoving Agatha away from himself. 

Agatha bursts out laughing and people stare as they pass. 

Her blonde hair shines like threads of gold in the glow of the sunrise and her skin gleams with a sheen of sweat that makes it look like she just swam in pixie dust. ( She must have gone for a run with the team after the council meeting.)

Agatha is the kind of beautiful that you never get used to. 

She insists she’s the type of beautiful our culture has programmed us to admire (the Barbie girl archetype, she calls it). Baz insists there’s something supernatural about it. (Beauty shouldn’t allow anyone to get away with as much as Agatha gets away with. )

The pair goes into the dining hall and serves their breakfast. They sit at their usual table, the one nearest to the window with a view of the garden, and their friends join them. As they eat, Baz finds his gaze sweeping the dining hall, until he realises he left Simon in their room.

In that instant, he notices Penelope Bunce making her way to his table. She has a determined look on her face and is clutching her books tightly against her chest. He makes eye contact with her and she looks down. Today, she lacks her usual confidence. He can’t decide if it’s because she doesn’t have Simon around or if her and Simon’s argument was more serious than he’d realised.

Penelope reaches the table and the talking tones down to murmurs. She’s staring directly at Baz. He’d think it was an intimidation tactic if he didn’t see it as a thinly veiled excuse not to look at the people around him. 

“Where’s Simon?” Penelope asks.

Beside Baz, Agatha snorts.

“Hanging out with the goats, probably,” Dev snickers and the table laughs. 

Penelope looks frustrated. 

“I’m serious Basilton, where is he?” Penelope asks him, still ignoring the rest of the table. 

Baz knows how this goes. She asks, he insults her so she can leave (because he genuinely doesn’t know) then he obsesses over where Simon could have been and regrets not being nicer to Penny. He’s known her longer than any of the people he’s sitting with (besides his cousin) and he knows that if his mother saw him treating her like they didn’t grow up together within these walls, she’d be ashamed. 

From the look on Penny’s face, he knows she thinks the same thing. He’s taken back to his argument with Simon the night before. It would be so easy to just answer her politely and ask Dev, Niall and they cronies to stop bullying her. 

But he knows that would make him less invincible, and if he was any less invincible, someone might ask why he and Agatha broke up, why he never looks up in the locker room or why he and Simon seem to hate each other but Baz never stops looking at him. 

Agatha takes that moment to step in. 

Placing a hand on Baz’s chest, she leans against his back into Penelope’s now reddening face. 

“Maybe he finally got the mind to move back to America and away from you, like what was his name, Baz? Mitchell?” Agatha asks, dragging a manicured nail down Baz’s jaw, “Michael? No, I remember, Micah! The not-so-imaginary-boyfriend Penny is in a very imaginary relationship with, as you usually say.”

Baz stiffens and Penelope gasps, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Gods Basil, you couldn’t even insult me yourself so you had your girlfriend do it. Simon was right, you are pathetic,” Penelope spits out and stomps away.

Baz stares at Penelope’s back as she leaves and feels his stomach drop. His vision blurs along the edges and he suddenly feels like he can barely breathe. Closing his eyes and turning back to his meal, he takes in a deep breath and tries to think of anyone besides himself he can blame for this. 

Baz considers taking it out on Agatha but he knows the only reason she thought it would be okay to say something like that to Penny is because of him. It also didn’t help that, technically all she did was repeat something he once told her. 

He’s embarrassed by the whole ordeal but most of all he’s embarrassed that he couldn’t say anything to defend her.  
\----------------- ----------------- ---------------- ------------------- ---------------- ---------------

“Yes, room 17. And could you take these to him? He’s really sad that he missed them,” Baz says, handing a small bag of sour cherry scones to the nurse.  
He could have just called it in instead of going all the way to the nurse’s office, but Simon wouldn’t have gotten his scones that way. Baz hopes Simon doesn’t leave crumbs on his side of the room. 

Leaving the office after some small talk with the nurse, Baz starts wandering around the halls. He thinks of going down to the catacombs since it’s only Advanced Latin (which is a walk in the park for him because of his mother) but finds himself wandering down to Penny and Simon’s hideaway. 

He knows Penny isn’t in class because when he dropped Agatha off, she wasn’t in her usual seat, so he figured she’d be here. A large part of him hopes he’s wrong and by some miracle, she decided to stay with the goatherd and wait for Simon there.

Reaching the door, he looks down the hallway to confirm the coast is clear before he knocks. No one answers. He tries to get the door open but it remains shut.  
“Bunce, I know you’re in there,” Baz says in a low tone. 

There’s not a lot that Simon can do that can surprise Penny at this point in their relationship. She had seen the boy eat a stick of butter for lunch every day for an entire term in their primary days. It doesn’t get worse than that. 

At least, that was until she realised Baz knew the location of their super-secret-very-exclusive-hideaway. 

Penelope is fuming with anger when she hears Baz knock again. 

“Come on Bunce, I want to talk, apologise actually,” Baz says.

Penny rolls her eyes at that and mimics him silently. That bridge was burnt when you decided to humiliate me for the entirety of our secondary school lives, Basil. Penny thinks.  
“The teacher on duty is going to find me out here, Bunce,” Baz says, worry in his tone. 

“I don’t think I’d like to explain why I’m crouched beneath the stairs talking to a broom closet,” Baz says, desperation seeping into his voice.

Penny can’t decide whether to take that as a threat or not. She doesn’t want to take the chance either way. 

“Oh, thank God,” Baz says when Penny opens the door. 

Penny sits is in the corner of the small room by the blank canvases. She’s wrapped up in a floral duvet and all you can see is her face peeking out with her purple hair sprawled all over, out of her usual bun. 

Baz stares at her and thinks this is the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her. Even as children, she always seemed like she had everything figured out. 

“Uhm... I brought you these,” Baz says, holding out two apple flavoured granola bars. 

He averts his gaze and shifts in discomfort on the throw pillows he’s sitting on.

Penelope snorts and burrows further into her nest. 

“Alright, well...” Baz says. 

He looks around and places them in an empty mason jar on the shelf. They sit in silence for a few minutes. He thinks Penny has fallen asleep until he hears shifting and finds her shedding the duvet. 

Her uniform is now a wrinkled mess and her tie is gone, leaving the first three buttons open. Penny had outgrown their uniform far earlier than any of their other classmates. It’s a point of ridicule from a few girls in their class, but he doesn’t miss how their eyes rove over her in jealousy when she attracts the attention of boys without trying.

She fixes Baz with a fierce look and Baz is struck by how much more intimidating her stare is without her glasses. 

“You’ve given me your pity offering, so why are you still here? As you can see, Simon isn’t here,” Penny says harshly. 

Baz can feel himself blushing. He hates how transparent he can be to Penny sometimes. 

“I wasn’t looking for him, I left him in our room this morning. He’s off sick,” Baz tells her. 

Penny scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh wow, but you couldn’t just tell me that earlier, right? Because it would hurt your reputation if anyone saw you treating me like a human being for even a second,” Penny spits out.

Baz has nothing to say to that so he remains silent. 

“Did you know that when I came to Watford I was excited?”Penny asks Baz after a long silence. 

“I was excited to be back. I missed the school, the grounds, but most of all, I missed you. After your mother passed, I wrote to you religiously. I was worried, but mum said you needed time more than letters, so I remained patient,” Penny says and giving Baz a hard look, “You never wrote back.”

“Then I met Simon. I pretended I didn’t want anything to do with him because I thought that one day, he’d stop liking me or stop talking to me like you did. I thought you were my first real friend, Basil,” Penny says in a soft tone. 

“You were my first friend too,” Baz tells her. 

Penny scoffs and gives Baz a dirty look. 

“I don’t know what your idea of ‘friendship’ is Basil, but it isn’t this. What you did to me in first-year is completely unforgivable. Humiliating me the way you did put a target on my back and no matter what I do, I just can’t shake it. Every day in this stupid school has been absolute hell for me, and if it wasn’t for Simon, I honestly don’t think I’d still be here,” Penny says. 

Baz’s eyes widen at the implication and he inhales sharply. 

“Oh gods no, jeez Basil. I don’t mean that. I just mean that if it wasn’t for Simon being at Watford I would have transferred schools already. A long time ago,” Penny tells him when she sees his pale face.

“I’m terribly sorry Penelope. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I just-“

“That’s the thing, Basil, you never mean any wrong but you don’t help me either. You’re the reason all the bullying started. The way you treated and humiliated me on that first day made everyone else think it was okay. You’ve had countless opportunities to stop it but you chose to stay in the background and let your friends torment me,” Penny tells him with a tight voice.

Penny begins pulling off the duvet from where it wrapped around her legs and starts looking around for her glasses. Baz had humiliated her enough; she wasn’t going to let him see her cry too. 

Penny finds her glasses wrapped in her tie behind the canvases, grabs them and starts getting up. 

“You’re the worst of them all,” Penelope says, swinging the door open and walking out. 

Baz scrambles up and tumbles out of the room. The brightness in the hallway disorients him a little but he still catches Penelope rushing up the stairs. Baz follows her. (He asks himself how it is he’s found himself in the same situation as the one he was in barely twelve hours ago.)

“BUNCE! Please, just listen to me,” Baz yells out, his voice cracking on her name.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you Basil, and you shouldn’t either. You apologized, and I rejected your apology simple as-“Penny says but just as she’s about to turn the corner, she stops abruptly, pressing her back against the wall. 

Penelope Bunce wouldn’t say she’s afraid of her mother. That doesn’t make it any less true.

Penny tips her head in the direction of the hallway and places her finger against her lips in a shushing motion. Baz peeks around the corner and sees Professor Bunce standing in the middle of the hallway with a tall blonde man dressed in an expensive suit.

Penny grabs his shoulder and pulls him away from her mother’s vicinity. 

“This is the only way to the nurse’s office and I need a note to excuse me from Latin. If my mum finds me here, she’s going to get suspicious and find out I’m still skipping class. I need a plan...” Penelope mutters. 

“What is she even doing here?” She asks. 

Baz peeks down the hall and sees them approaching the staircase. Before he can alert Penelope, the pair stops and looks into a classroom. 

“I think they’re coming this way. We need to leave,” Penny says and starts tiptoeing down the stairs. 

“Hold on. What is she doing here? The headmistress is far too important of a person to take a parent around the grounds, right? And anyway, that man looks far too young to be a parent here...” Baz says, trailing off.

“Now is not the time for curiosity,” Penny starts, but when she notices Baz hasn’t moved, she continues, “Basil, listen, heard of the curious cat? In this case, we are the cat, and there’s no amount of satisfaction that will bring us back to life. Baz, I do not have the lives to waste, so come on...” Penny says, tugging at Baz’s arm. 

Hearing the urgency in Penelope’s tone reminds him back of the gravity of a situation. Baz and Penelope rush down the stairs, but when Penny tries to go back to ground-floor, Baz tugs at her hand and pulls her into a vacant classroom at the bottom of the stairs.

“What are you-“Penny starts but Baz cuts her off. 

“We have a better chance of them not catching up to us if we let them pass us, and don’t you still need to go back to the nurse’s office?” He asks her.  
Penny nods grudgingly. She’s a little glad that she didn’t leave him behind (she thought it would have been hard for Baz to snitch on her if they’re caught together; she just didn’t expect he’d help her too.)

They hear footsteps approaching and Professor Bunce’s voice can be heard. 

“... Yes and at last we have the labs, which are found in the new science centre that was constructed with the help of our very generous mutual friend,” Professor Bunce says.  
“I’m glad to see that the donations are being put to good use. The donor will be very glad to know that,” the man says in a posh Oxford English accent. 

“Now, Mr Gansey, it has been nearly four years since the donor got an ... interest in helping Watford, but I have to ask, how long do they intend on staying anonymous for? I don’t mean to overstep any boundaries or come off as rude- I just think it would be appropriate for me to thank them in person,” Professor Bunce says, stopping a meter away from the door Penny and Baz are hiding behind. 

“I think that you’re quite right. Our mutual friend would like to arrange a meeting on the evening of the Annual Alumni Ball to allow you to thank them. . . Appropriately, if you would allow me to use your words,” the tall man says. 

“That would be wonderful, actually,” Mitali says, after hesitating for a moment.

“They would also like to thank you for the . . . unorthodox favour you granted them four years ago. They remain grateful and are pleased to see the progress you’ve made on that front,” the man replies. 

“It was my pleasure,” Mitali says softly, “Now, the labs?”  
\------------ ------------ ------------ ------------ ----------------- -----------

“That PRICK! Who does he think he is, walking around this place, throwing his money around, making my mum seem like she’s the bad guy here and forcing her to accept bribes. Can you even believe this Basil? Basil? Are you even listening? Why am I even talking to you when I should be talking to Simon?” Penelope says in exasperation. 

“NO! Simon is the last person you should be talking to about this,” Baz says, getting up from his position on the bench. 

Penny had been pacing since they eavesdropped on her mum’s conversation. Baz had been brooding quietly. 

They sat at the back of the barn near where Ebb lives. Penny said Simon spends a lot of his time out here.

“What do you mean? He’s my best mate, everything I know, he knows. And anyway, it’s not like you’re going to be of any help getting my mum out of this,” Penny says. 

“No, what I mean is that I don’t think Simon would help. He’s too involved in all this,” Baz says. 

“Unhelpful as ever, Basil. Great explanation,” Penny replies, giving him a blank look. 

“What I mean is, think about it. The ‘unorthodox favour’ that happened four years ago could be Simon. Four years ago was when we started Watford, right? And Simon was given late acceptance without even being interviewed. What if this ‘favour’ is Simon attending Watford?” Baz asks Penny.

Penny’s mouth forms a thin line. 

“Simon is here because of my mother,” Penny says. 

“I thought of that, but a staff scholarship is only viable to immediate family members and only given based on academic excellence upon being reviewed by the school board to prevent cases of nepotism,” Baz tells her. 

“Also, no student has ever attended this school without undergoing the full interviewing process, let alone without applying,” Baz adds. 

Penny looks up at Baz sharply, “Wait, Simon never applied?”

“Apparently. He even said that his mum never even did the interview,” Baz replies, “But I left it alone because he said you and him couldn’t get a lead on who the donor was and that Professor Bunce refused to let anything on.”

Penelope plops onto the bench Baz just vacated. 

She stares at the ground for a moment and takes off her glasses to rub her eyes. 

“This doesn’t make any sense. We’ve never even spoken about the donor. Simon told me that he applied hoping we could come here together and that by some miracle an anonymous donor gave him the opportunity to attend Watford. I never questioned it because I had a lot on my plate and just thanked whatever miracle brought him back to me. Simon would never lie to me, Simon has never lied to me,” Penny says, looking hurt.

“Well, it looks like he has,” Baz says motioning to something behind Penny. 

Penny gets up and looks around the barn and gasps in shock. 

Simon is standing at the science centre’s entrance with his signature ratty joggers and a baggy sweatshirt, shaking hands with the tall stranger. He says something that makes the man laugh and Mitali smile tightly. 

“Why would Simon lie about this?” Penny asks. 

“Probably because he doesn’t want you knowing about it,” Baz says. 

Penny scoffs and looks at Baz incredulously. 

“That was a rhetorical question. What I meant was why would he lie to me? We tell each other everything! We don’t keep secrets! We-“ Penny says, getting worked up. 

“Do you really tell each other everything or does Simon tell you everything and you tell him selective truths?’ Baz asks offhandedly, sitting back down on the bench. 

“What – How- You-” Penny stammers out, flustered. 

“Bunce, the more I think about it, the more I realise that this is none of our business. Whoever is funding Snow’s education is none of our concern, more so because he doesn’t seem to want us to know,” Baz says, buttoning up his blazer. 

“Baz, you heard what that man said, and how he spoke to my mother. This is a hostage situation!” Penny says dramatically, but when Baz raises an eyebrow at her she adds, “Okay, maybe it’s not, but what we do know is that if the ‘higher-ups’ get a whiff of this my mum will be fired. I don’t know much about the Watford integrity policies, but surely, accepting large donations in exchange for shoddy favours must break it.”

Baz stares at Penny for a while. He knows it’s his fault they’re in this situation in the first place but can’t help but worry about Simon’s reaction if he finds out they’re snooping into something he clearly doesn’t want them knowing about. 

“I thought you hated me,” Baz says, standing up and facing Penny. 

“I do. But right now, you’re the only one who can help me. It’s not like I have anyone else I can tell this and you happen to know everything about this school and be acquainted with everyone who’s anyone, so it’ll make things easier,” Penny says like she’s been thinking about it since they left the building, “Also, I’m pretty sure you have a copy of the school’s keys.”

Baz groans and rolls his eyes, “Penny, I don’t have time to-“

“If you helped me do this Basil, I could reconsider hating you for the rest of our lives,” Penny cuts Baz off.

Baz knows emotional manipulation when he sees it. That doesn’t stop him from remembering the look on Penny’s face when she stormed out of the dining hall this morning and the guilt that came with it. He's been choosing self preservation over the people around him for the last three years and the only thing he's gained is trust issues and low self esteem. This time he wants to choose Penny. He needs to choose Penny, or he doesn't think he'll ever forgive himself.

Frowning at her, he asks, “Are you just saying that or do you really mean it?”

Penny didn’t expect that. She didn’t think Baz meant his apology, but seeing that he’s willing to help her with this on the off chance that she’d forgive him makes her consider that he could have meant it. She’s angry that he thinks he can buy her forgiveness with a favour but she knows she has no right to be since she’s the one who made the proposition.

She’s shocked to realise she means it. She hadn’t realised how much she actually needed friends other than Simon until then.

“I mean it. Obviously, you have to do much more than this if you want to fully earn my forgiveness. For example, apologizing to me publicly and treating me like a human being; but this could also be a good start,” Penny replies. 

“Alright then, I’ll help you. But on the condition that Simon doesn’t find out what we’re doing. I’ve found myself trying to earn a lot of peoples’ forgiveness lately,” Baz says, holding out his hand for Penny to shake. 

Grinning widely, Penny takes his hand and shakes it firmly, saying, “Deal.”


End file.
